14. Malcolm #2
"You look like you want to jump out the window." I keep my voice a low, steady rumble. "I want you to match my breathing."
She shakes her head. "I need to leave. I made a mistake. I need to figure out a plan."
"The plans wait for tomorrow." I sink down onto the carpet, crossing my legs. Taking a seat on the floor makes my towering frame smaller, removing the height advantage. "Sit with me, Olive."
She stares at me, suspicious of the request.
"Just sit." I tap the floor in front of me. "No tricks. Just breathe."
She hesitates. Taking a tentative step forward, she sinks onto the carpet across from me.
"Watch my chest." I inhale a deep breath. "In for a count of four. Hold it. Exhale for four."
I exaggerate the movement of my lungs. She watches me. Her first attempt catches in her throat. She chokes on a sob.
"Try again." I offer an encouraging nod. "You dictate the pace. I follow you."
She takes a shaky breath in. I match her. We breathe together. The terror in her brown eyes begins to recede. The sour panic in her apple pie scent mellows, leaving a softer, exhausted sweetness.
"Better?" I search her face for a reaction.
She nods, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I hate this. I hate losing my mind. I hate wanting things I never asked for."
"Your body went through an intense trauma." I lean my forearms on my knees. "You fight your own instincts. That causes your spiral."
"I need control, Malcolm. If I surrender to this pack, I have no life. I become a guest in a mansion."
"You look at control the wrong way." I look her straight in the eye. "You view surrender as a defeat. You think submitting means becoming a victim."
She frowns. "It means losing my independence."
"It means letting someone else carry the burden for an hour.
" I keep my tone even. "I know techniques, Olive.
I know how to quiet the noise in your head.
Giving up control is a choice. In a dynamic like this, the person yielding control makes all the rules.
You hold the power. You hand the reins to me, and I do all the work.
You get to exist and feel good. If you hate it, you say the word, and I stop.
You stay in the driver's seat the entire time. "
She searches my face. "You want to teach me how to surrender?"
"I want to show you the relief it brings." I extend my hand, palm up, keeping it on the carpet between us. "But you have to ask for it. I refuse to force you into anything. If you want to pace a hole in the carpet all afternoon, I will leave you alone. If you want peace, you take my hand."
Olive stares at my calloused hand. A full minute passes. The silence stretches in the bedroom.
Her fingers uncurl from her knees. She reaches out. Her small, trembling hand touches my palm. "Show me." A ragged whisper breaks past her lips.
I wrap my fingers around hers. I stand up, pulling her up with me. I guide her the few short steps toward the king-sized bed occupying the center of the room.
"Stand by the bed." I drop her hand.
She stands on the plush carpet. Her chest rises and falls under the oversized black t-shirt.
"Take the shirt off." My tone stays calm and flat.
She crosses her arms, grabbing the hem of the dark cotton. She pulls the fabric over her head and drops it onto the floor.
She stands naked in front of me. Faint, dark bruises dot her collarbone and her inner thighs.
Seeing the marks of my pack brothers on her skin fills my chest with dark, territorial satisfaction.
But her racing pulse drumming against her neck tells me she needs a different kind of touch from me.
Giving her instructions provides a task.
Following orders keeps her chaotic mind focused.
"Lie back." I point to the mattress.
She climbs onto the bed and lies back against the pillows.
I unlace my boots and kick them off. I pull my sweatpants down to my ankles and toss them aside, standing over her in my boxer briefs.
I crawl onto the bed. My tall frame brackets her thighs. I keep my weight off her body, offering an open space for her to retreat if the panic returns.
"I want you to spread your legs." I keep my voice steady, offering a soft directive.
She parts her knees.
"Wider."
She pushes her thighs farther apart, exposing her slick-coated center to the cool air conditioning. A shudder rolls through her limbs.
"Look at me." I catch her gaze. "You made the choice to open up for me. You hold the power. Right now, your only job involves feeling what I do to you. No thinking. No planning."
I trace the line of her stomach with my index finger. Her skin shivers under my touch. I lean forward and press my mouth against her inner thigh. The taste of her salt and sweat hits my tongue. I trail open-mouthed kisses up her leg, working my way toward her center.
I position my face over her dripping pussy.
"Malcolm." A ragged gasp tears from her throat, her hips bucking up.
I slide my tongue inside her wet folds. The sweet taste of warm apple pie coats my mouth. I drag my tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from her opening up to the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her slit.
I close my lips around her clit and suck.
A screaming moan rips from her throat. Her hands grip the bedsheets. Her back arches off the mattress.
"Good girl." I pull back a fraction of an inch to let her breathe. "Let it all go."
I use my tongue to explore every fold and every sensitive ridge. I swirl, suck, and bite with agonizing patience. I refuse to let her sprint toward the finish line. I keep her hovering on the edge of the drop, forcing her to exist in the present moment.
Her hands leave the sheets. Her fingers tangle in my dark hair. She pulls me closer, demanding more pressure.
I reach up and grab both of her wrists.
"Let go of my hair." My breath ghosts against her soaked skin. "Put your hands above your head. Flat on the mattress."
She hesitates. The urge to hold on fights the urge to obey.
"It’s okay, Olive, we can still stop at any point." I keep my tone encouraging. "Trust me. Hands up."
She releases my hair. She moves her arms above her head, pressing her palms into the pillows.
I dive back in. I flick my tongue over her most sensitive spot with relentless strokes.
She thrashes on the mattress. Keeping her hands flat requires all of her focus.
It stops the chaotic spiral in her mind and gives her to the intense pleasure.
I control her movements with verbal limits, removing the need for tangible restraints.
She stays pinned by her own choice to submit.
"Please." Her hips lift off the mattress, chasing the friction. Her voice dissolves into a string of frantic whimpers. "I need it. Please, Malcolm."
I pause my tongue, blowing a stream of cool air over her slick, swollen clit.
She gasps, her fingers curling into tight fists against the pillows. The contrast of the cool air and the burning heat of her arousal sends a violent shudder through her limbs.
"Make me come." Tears of frustration and need spill over her eyelashes. "Please make me come."
I slide two thick fingers inside her tight canal, stretching her open while my mouth attacks her clit.
The dual stimulation pushes her over the edge.
Olive screams. A climax rips through her system. Her inner walls clamp down around my fingers with crushing force. She rides the intense, rolling waves of the orgasm, her hips stuttering against my face.
I keep sucking her clit through the aftershocks, milking every drop of pleasure from her trembling body. I watch the deep flush recede from her chest. I refuse to stop until her thighs fall limp against the sheets.
When her racing pulse slows to an even rhythm against my fingers, I pull back. I crawl up her body and wrap my broad arms around her, pulling her small frame tight against my chest.
I pull the duvet over her bare shoulders, shielding her from the cool air conditioning. She buries her face in my neck. She inhales my scent in deep, greedy gasps.
"You hold all the power." I stroke her dark hair, my large hand covering the back of her head. "You chose to trust me. You gave up the reins, and I kept you safe. You never have to fight this war alone if you don't want to. I've got you."
I hold a calm, peaceful Omega in my arms. Easing her burden and guiding her to surrender quieted the storm in her head. The sweet, even scent rolling off her skin proves she found some peace today.